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Friday, September 30, 2011

September 30

Right now everything having to do with my work is good. Worries about the direction my style and subject matter are taking only sing of the proof that I am actually thinking about poems again. 50-odd drafts only speak to so many hours spent happy or at least vitally agitated at my desk. Criticisms mean that words have gone out from me. Everything to do with my work is good.

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